


Slumlord

by chase_acow



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, jason todd gets a life, no sex but Jason thinks about it an awful lot, spite friends to lovers, tim is a sneaky sneak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22556092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: “Just trying to figure out what you want, Replacement,” Jason said, stifling a wince as he immediately regretted using that word instead of a name. They weren’t friends, Jason wasn’t even sure he could ever like this small Robin who was so smart and loyal and all the things Jason hadn’t tried to be.Staring at him over the rim of the mug, Tim’s expression didn’t flicker. “Only your absence,” he said, cold and sharp as a knife.Jason smiled, this he knew, he understood. Tim hated him. It was pure and easy to understand, not the confusion that came with the unexpected jailbreak and the absolutely civil conversation they had first. Bruce was gone, Gotham up for grabs, and Jason for the first time in years didn’t know his next move. Taking a stab at Tim though, that was easy, expected.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 7
Kudos: 203
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Slumlord

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phnelt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phnelt/gifts).



> Hello requester! I hope you like this, I tried to hit a couple of your wants, but honestly I haven't been able to keep up with their story lines entirely myself. So this is vaguely a mish match of things I've picked up and things I think you'd like. Thanks for asking for these two!

Tim knew he was there, of course he did, trained by Bruce, by Lady Shiva, the only other man given the respect of ‘Detective’ from Ras. Jason had certainly never gotten close to that honor, though the fact that he’d made it through Tim’s security precautions meant he couldn’t be too much a slouch. So Tim knew he had a visitor lurking in the shadows by the large windows, but he wasn’t throwing knives or calling Jason out. Apparently their truce wasn’t over yet.

Content to wait, Jason watched Tim go about his nightly routine when he wasn’t out jumping rooftops. It started with some Sleepy Time tea, loose leaf spooned into a reusable pod and popped into one of those devil coffee makers Jason could never work right. He pulled out a tablet, brightness down low to wash Tim’s face in a warm amber glow. According to the reflection in the microwave he was trying to manipulate a spreadsheet that was either quarterly production or losses of grappling hooks. 

It was less fun watching when he was also being watched, he might as well make himself comfortable. Without making a fuss, he moved to the chair by the fireplace, settling into the worn cushion. Tim’s eyes followed him without moving, and somehow Jason wished he could add more armor to his already dense layers. He crossed his legs letting his ankle settle over his knee pad and waited.

“There something I can help you with, Hood?” Tim asked when he’d let his tea cool enough to sip.

“Just trying to figure out what you want, Replacement,” Jason said, stifling a wince as he immediately regretted using that word instead of a name. They weren’t friends, Jason wasn’t even sure he could ever like this small Robin who was so smart and loyal and all the things Jason hadn’t tried to be.

Staring at him over the rim of the mug, Tim’s expression didn’t flicker. “Only your absence,” he said, cold and sharp as a knife.

Jason smiled, this he knew, he understood. Tim hated him. It was pure and easy to understand, not the confusion that came with the unexpected jailbreak and the absolutely civil conversation they had first. Bruce was gone, Gotham up for grabs, and Jason for the first time in years didn’t know his next move. Taking a stab at Tim though, that was easy, expected.

He’d never liked doing what was expected of him.

“Maybe I’m here to take something instead,” he said, moving quick to cover the distance between them before Tim could reach for any of the dozen weapons in his easy reach. “How much do you regret springing me?”

Tim didn’t cede an inch to him, though he tipped his head back keeping eye contact even when Jason bracketed him in against the counter. “I regretted it before I even did it,” he answered, voice strong and even, though Jason didn’t know him well enough to say whether it was Tim, Robin, or Mr. Wayne-Drake. “It was what Bruce would have wanted, not me.”

“What else would you want, since I’m not planning on going anywhere anytime soon?” Jason asked, adjusting his stance now that Tim had let him so close. Any strikes would be quick jabs to his joints or his most delicate bits, and honestly getting kicked in the balls once by Tim was enough for a lifetime.

“World peace,” Tim said, deadpan without a twitch.

Jason laughed, and it surprised him enough to keep laughing until he saw Tim struggle to keep his eyes wide and his mouth straight. He had an nice looking face, thin and angular, tired maybe, but Jason could see the appeal. The laughter died off. Tim wasn’t intimidated, but their closeness could be useful for something else. He’d said he was there to take something, and now he knew what.

Tim saw him coming, of course he did, but he let Jason do it. Jason tasted the tea mostly, whatever crap he’d bolted down for dinner long gone, but it had been so long since Jason had kissed anyone he wouldn’t have minded onions and pickles. It was soft, warmer than he remembered feeling someone touch him and even though it was just his lips moving over Tim’s mouth, a full body shiver shook him. He didn’t want to let go, his chest ached even as Tim tried to pull away, but he pushed forward determined to keep the contact.

Pain sliced through his mouth causing him to stumble back into the other counter. His elbow smashed into something plastic and fragile, rest in peace coffee maker. Tim had a smear of blood on his lower lip, but Jason was the wounded party. Wiping away the drips from his busted mouth, Jason sneered and cleaned his hand on a kitchen towel.

“Thanks for that, Drake,” he said, irritated that he’d let himself loose to hope for more that the violence.

“Maybe if you didn’t push so hard,” Tim said, easily brushing himself off, but unable to do anything about the flush in his cheeks. 

“Whatever, I took what I needed, I’ll get out of your life now,” Jason said, licking over the cut again to keep the blood from spilling over his chin. It would heal quick enough. He’d scratched the itch, now he knew why Tim had helped him - only because of Bruce - and now he could go his own way. He angled himself back to the window he’d come through, the only exit he knew was safe.

“Jason,” Tim called, stopping him right in the middle of the windowsill, and threw something Jason caught on reflex. “Prove me wrong.”

Rolling his eyes, Jason pocketed the extra cell phone, knowing he’d need to stop and check it for extra programing before he took it anywhere near his new safe house or equipment. He didn’t need Tim’s approval, or any of them, he knew what he needed to do to make Gotham safe. To make sure what happened to him wouldn’t happen to anyone else. Still the feeling of Tim’s body underneath his felt better than it had any right to. Maybe he’d play along long enough to see just how far he could push.

The first text came a month later. Jason had kept a fairly low profile since his jail break, finding out what he’d lost to the scavengers, who’d moved where, and which ones were the biggest dirtbags who needed taken out. He was going over his own spreadsheets, figuring out how he needed the dominos to fall in order to take back the most ground. It vibrated in a box with a handful of other burner phones he kept charged in case he needed them. He almost ignored it, but he was waiting on a snitch to find him some intel.

The phone was cool in his hand, probably some Wayne tech, but he’d scrubbed it as much as he could and figured he’d deal with any uninvited visitors. By the time he flicked the screen on he had two texts from an unknown number. The first one was an address and time, while the second one was an image of a cartoon woman wearing glasses screaming _NO CAPES_ at him. He lost a couple of hours down the rabbit hole of finding the reference and watching the movie, and only then looked up the address. It was an empty building in a neighborhood bordering one of the Wayne rejuvenation efforts. After checking, Jason confirmed it wasn’t on any of his lists of interests he wanted or he wanted to keep from someone else.

He nearly ignored the invitation, but in the end curiosity got the better of him and he showed up ten minutes late on his motorcycle, wheeling it into the building with him. This wasn’t a neighborhood where he had any clout to protect his bike when he wasn’t there to watch it. It wasn’t time to bring the Red Hood out of the shadows again yet, not until he could hit hard enough no one would be left to hit back.

Tim was waiting, managing to stand in the single pool of light let in by a high unbroken and unblocked window. He made the stuffy business suit look good, tight across the shoulders, tapered to his waist, suit jacket hiding the ass that was on full display in his Robin uniform. Jason indulged in a split second daydream of bending Tim over the pile of pallets in the corner and messing up his expensive clothing. He really needed to get laid, the sooner the better.

“This better be good,” he said, dropping the kickstand and leaving his helmet on the handlebars to get a little closer to Tim. He had no idea why Tim would want to see him again, let alone in civilian clothes in a place like this.

“Depends, how do you like the place?” Tim asked, turning around as he slipped his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket.

Jason looked around at the broken glass, the piles of crap he wasn’t sure he wanted to identify, and the hateful images and writing scrawled across the walls. He shrugged and focused back to Tim, “It’s a piece of shit.”

“How would you like it to be your piece of shit?” Tim asked, the corner of his mouth tipping up in obvious amusement.

“Um- no? Thanks?” Jason asked, off kilter. Out of everything he expected or hoped for, this was not one of them. What would he need with a ramshackle warehouse type space? It wasn’t fortified, it wasn’t strategically useful, and it was too close to the neighborhood clean up efforts to tolerate his particular brand of vigilantism. 

Shrugging, Tim picked up the briefcase at his feet, sauntered over to the pallets Jason had fantasized about, and pulled out some paperwork. “Fantastic, of course the use would be up to you as long as you document how you benefit the public good,” Tim continued as if Jason had readily agreed. “This is the paperwork you need to fill out to apply for the grant. If you need legal or technical assistance let me know, we have an excess of lawyers.”

Jason had never let anyone bulldoze him before, and he wasn’t about to start. His replacement would not dictate his life, not after taking so much from Jason. He moved, intending to fold Tim over the pallets in a very non-sexy way, but stopped short at the hard metal pressed into his chest from the bo-staff. He sighed and glanced down, outmaneuvered again.

“You want to fuck over Batman and Joker? This is one option,” Tim said, pushing Jason back until he stepped back out of reach. He stared Jason down, somehow so much bigger than his small frame and wiser than his fewer years. “Do something good, do what they can’t and figure out how to. Enjoy your life. The envelope is pre-paid and the deadline is next Friday.”

Tim walked out, his back straight without a worry about leaving himself open to attack.

The door slammed and echoed across the empty space, the building was large, and with as many walls as were still standing, apparently the bones were solid. He’d spent enough time in buildings like these as a child, hiding and living to know they were built when Gotham was doing things right. There was a lot someone could do with it if they had the right resources. Jason scowled and glared at the stack of papers. This wasn’t what he wanted.

But maybe he could use it.

In the end, he turned it into a gym with an emphasis on mixed martial arts training. He hired the thugs who proved they wanted to turn their lives around, and ending up banning one out of every twelve idiots who came in to use his free two week promotional to cause trouble. It took so much time to get the equipment, set everything up, train his employees that he’d need to redo his entire gang inventory when he was ready to start again. Annoying but doable, and now he’d have a legitimate base once he worked up the reputation.

“The daycare is a nice touch,” Tim said, waltzing in wearing an artfully distressed oversized hoodie. He leaned against the main ring, close enough their elbows brushed. “Is that the guy I dangled over the Trigate?”

“Could be, his wife gave him his third kid six months ago. Told him if he didn’t get it together she was gonna take them and move in with her mom,” Jason winced as one of the fighters got in a vicious but legal body blow. They were doing good work today, it seemed like some of his lectures about control and patience might have finally sunk in. The irony was not lost on him. “Nobody else would hire him. Dads need childcare options too. We’ve got a waiting list for when I can hire another teacher or two.”

The day care was completely separate from the gym, different entry/exits and absolutely no way for the above average idiot to get through all the secure doors. The kids had a safe place to stay, regular meals, and every once in a while they learned something while the parents had some peace of mind while they exercised an outlet for their own energy. Jason had spent more time making it safe than he had primping up the locker rooms, but so far no one had complained.

“This is really great, Jason,” Tim said, turning his body into Jason’s. “I never thought you’d actually do it.”

“Good enough for a reward?” Jason asked, choosing to ignore the implication Tim thought he tricked Jason into it.

“What do you have in mind?” Tim asked, suspicious again.

“Follow me,” Jason said, pushing away from the ring. He stopped to tag his night time trainer on the shoulder leaving him in charge, and then made his way to the office. He held the door open for Tim and then locked it behind him. It was a large enough space he was able to easily move around Tim to sprawl in his chair.

“What are you doing?” Tim asked, looking around obviously looking for the magic switch to change the setting from an over worked non profit to a vigilante’s wet dream.

“I’m not pushing,” Jason answered, joining the mind games. He’d thought about it a lot, possibly too much. If Tim wanted another connection to the life, something the hell spawn currently masquerading as Robin couldn’t touch, he could damn well do part of the work for it. Jason slouched and spread his knees wider, letting the loose material of his work out pants pool at his groin. The idea of Tim willingly on his knees was enough to chub him up.

The moment stretched long enough Jason had to force himself still, but he’d be damned if he’d blink first. Somehow all his jerk-off fantasies revolved around Tim, everything from making him submit to irritatingly mundane scenarios of playing house together. He was going soft, and he just needed to get it out of his system and then he could move on. Figuring out how to fuck Tim had been at the top of his to-do list, and then he figured out he had to let Tim do the hard work. Jason broke eye contact with Tim, glancing down to his lap and then back up as he grinned.

“You’re a menace,” Tim said, nudging Jason’s knees closer together as he climbed up in Jason’s lap and settled himself, hands flat on Jason’s chest. “You think you know things. You don’t know things.”

“I know I’m going to spread you over my desk and take you to heaven,” Jason promised, running his hands up Tim’s thighs and fitting his palm’s over Tim’s hips. He leaned back in the chair, taking Tim’s weight when his feet came off the ground. It wasn’t quite as good as Tim on his knees sucking Jason down, but it’d do. “Is that okay with you?”

“That’s a terrible line,” Tim said, though his face continued to flush as he chewed on his bottom lip. His fingers twisted in Jason’s shirt as he settled his bony butt a little more firmly across Jason’s thighs.

Tim was wearing loose jeans, but the way he wiggled made the bulge in Jason’s lap all the more prominent. He realized he wanted this, not just to prove he could, but he wanted it for himself and if Tim turned him down it was going to hurt. Reaching up, he thumbed the dark circle under Tim’s eye and trailed down to brush over his lips. “Is it working?” he asked, praying, for the first time in a long while, that Tim would say yes.

“Not here it’s not,” Tim said, nipping Jason’s thumb before he leaned down for a kiss. “Why don’t you take me home, treat me like a real gentleman?”

Jason stood up, taking Tim with him and encouraging his legs to wrap tighter around Jason’s waist. “All right,” Jason agreed, mouthing across Tim’s jaw. Tim’s answering hardness pressed against his belly, spurring him on. “One time only.”

It wasn’t one time only. 

Climbing in and out of each others’ windows started to be habit. Jason found himself on his knees as often as he kicked Tim’s legs apart and pushed him into the wall. Somehow he kept putting off his plans to consolidate his power, though he kept his neighborhood relatively gang free and destroyed anyone who tried to mess his place or his employees. Fucking Tim felt so good, talking to Tim made him feel something else, and he was quickly becoming addicted to it.

Tim invited everyone to his apartment for Thanksgiving. Jason wouldn’t have bothered going except that Alfred interceded and took over the cooking duties. He showed up at the last moment and ended up sitting between Dick and Stephanie. It . . . wasn’t the worst thing. He stayed for a piece of cake, stole an entire apple pie, and stepped out the door while everyone was distracted by Damien and Titus showing off their newest hoop trick. 

He waited on the rooftop of the building next door, eating the pie from the middle out. Alfred was the last to leave, and proved his status as the all knowing one by glancing up at Jason’s hiding spot and shaking his head before driving away. Jason gave it another fifteen minutes just to make sure, but once he saw the living area light turn off, he moved faster before Tim got any further into his nighttime routine.

“You could have just stayed if you were coming back anyway,” Tim said, plastering himself over Jason’s back where he stood at the sink rinsing his pan out. He wrapped his arms around Jason and pressed his face right into that warm space between Jason’s shoulder blades.

“They don’t need to know you’re slumming it with me,” Jason said, washing his hands and turning so Tim’s head lay on his sternum. It didn’t matter how often he washed his hands, he’d never get rid of the blood staining them. He didn’t regret it exactly, but he didn’t need the sanctimonious sect of the Bat Clan trying to hold it over him. “I’m sure Alfred knows though, that man knows everything.”

“You want to take me to bed, Slumlord?” Tim asked, angling his head up so his pointy chin jabbed Jason in his chest. “Obviously just to sleep. I ate way too much for anything more strenuous.”

“Your wish, my liege,” Jason said, rolling his eyes as he swept Tim off his feet to carry him into the bedroom. He didn’t mind, Tim weighed nothing at all, and even if he often ended up changing the sheets for Tim’s often cluttered room, at least he knew they’d been done in the last month. He dumped Tim on his side of the bed, stripped off the fancy clothes he’d worn to dinner and folded the slacks and dress shirt before he slipped under the sheets.

“Jason?”

“Yeah?” Jason answered, already half asleep from the stress of playing nice with the others. As he rolled to his side, he wrapped an arm around Tim’s waist, dragging him closer until they were pressed together.

“You’re the only one who thinks I’m slumming,” Tim mumbled, wiggling until his back pressed against Jason’s front. “I think I’m dating a small business owner who takes care of his employees and looks super hot in his crop top t-shirt. I’m proud of you.”

“Who said anything about dating?” Jason asked, going for the easy joke rather than unpack anything else Tim had said. He wasn’t sure he was ready to wear those labels yet. He hadn’t even meant Tim to see him work out in that crop top, it had just been left in the lost and found and he’d been desperate.

“Shut up and hold me tighter,” Tim said, grabbing Jason’s wrist and holding it until his grip went lax with sleep.

Jason stayed awake a little longer, watching as the moonlight dappled across the bed. Slum or not, he was pretty happy with how his life had shaken out.


End file.
